


Future

by hithelleth



Series: In Enemy's Hands [8]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Multi, Romance, Threesome - F/M/M, Uncle/Niece Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 17:19:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hithelleth/pseuds/hithelleth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eight months after the end of <i><a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/654810">Fixing Things</a></i>, approximately a year since <i><a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/585116">Surrender</a></i>, Charlie returns from a mission and makes a stand for what she wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Future

Charlie barely closes the office door behind her when Monroe’s hands are on her. He backs her against the door with a crash, shielding her head with his hand as he roughly claims her mouth. Her body responds instantly, the want surging through her veins.

The kiss is frantic, desperate. He grinds against her and she rolls her hips to meet him. They both groan with need, neither of them having the patience for slow and gentle. She struggles with his belt as he yanks her pants down. He hooks her legs around his waist, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise when he plunges inside her already slick channel.

He takes her rough and fast, devouring her mouth. She scrapes his neck with blunt nails, clutching him closer, and in return he marks hers, sucking and biting, thrusting faster. The muscles inside her tighten deliciously and she rocks harder against him, moaning his name as she comes apart. He slides out and follows, rubbing against her sex.  

Her legs sway when she stands on the floor again and she stays upright but for the fact that she’s leaning against the door, Sebastian’s forehead resting against hers, his arms propped on the door beside her.

“Hi,” he whispers with a breathless smile, “welcome back.”

She smiles back, just as winded: “Hey. Good to be back.”

“I missed you,” he tells her while they are putting their clothing back together as best as they can.

“Me too.”

“Didn’t think of running off with the Neville boy and never looking back?” The question is only half-teasing.

“So that was a test to see if I do?” Monroe doesn’t respond immediately, which says enough. He brushes his knuckles against her cheek: “I’d call it more of an opportunity.”

“Well, I’m still here.”

“That you are.” He pulls her to him again for s short kiss. He clears his throat. “Speaking of Neville, I expected him to report immediately upon return.”

Charlie’s cheeks grow yet a shade warmer. “He’s waiting outside. I thought I’d just say hi.”

Bass’ grin is wickedly pleased. “Oh, then let’s not keep him waiting any longer.”

He releases her, but bends once more to her ear: “Later,” before walking back to his desk.

She combs her hair with her fingers, taming them into a semblance of decency, and inhales deeply to compose herself. Of course, everyone within an earshot must know what they have just been up to, anyway. She straightens her posture, exiting the room past Jason waiting in the hallway, motioning him to go in.

***

A meal, a long hot bath and a nap later, Charlie sits down to add the final lines to her own report of the just completed mission, a patrol of the towns and villages along the east coast up to the northern borders of the Republic.

The loyalty of this part of the country is crucial for the Republic and people needed to be reminded the command in the capital is watchful and strong. With the situation in the south still tense, the negotiations with Georgia and Plains on-going and the rebels in the west persistent, Miles and Bass couldn’t leave Philadelphia. It was Charlie’s suggestion she go, having made corporal just a month or so before, for the name Matheson should have made an impression and as Rachel’s daughter she might have found out something about the third pendant from Rachel’s old contacts.  Although the latter had meagre results, the mission succeeded at reinforcing the command’s influence in the area.

Jason was put in charge despite his youth, his loyalty to Charlie playing a big part in it. As Miles put it, the boy might try to steal her but he would certainly protect her. Other participants were carefully picked, sergeant – formerly corporal – Gonzales among them. Travelling as a part of a larger group, and Militia at that, was much easier than her journey to Philadelphia, safer and more comfortable. Nevertheless, Charlie is glad to be in the capital again.

***

After finishing her report, Charlie relaxes on the sofa when Miles shows up.

“So, you’re back,” he greets her from the doorway, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

“You thought I’d run away, too?” She tries to ease his apparent discomfort.

“I wouldn’t blame you.”

“Idiot.” The name-calling is more efficient at relieving the tension.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

He sits beside her and she reaches up to kiss him. They end up lying on the sofa, Charlie half-atop of him, trading languid kisses. She undoes the buttons on his jacket and he sits up to help her shrug it off, while she slips her hands under his shirt, craving the skin to skin contact.

She runs her tongue over her lips, teasing before slipping into his mouth, as small, happy noises escape her throat.

He twists his fingers through her hair, holding her head as he kisses back, allowing her to lead.

“Aren’t you tired?” He asks in a husky voice, when they take a break to breathe. “A long road, and I heard you’ve got quite a reception earlier.” His eyes glint.

She proceeds to unbuttoning his shirt. “It’s been almost two, fucking, unbearable, months,” she complains by way of explanation, “meanwhile, you two had each other.”

Miles grins. “True. Although I’m sure lover boy would –“

“Don’t even say it, or else...” Charlie puts a finger over his lips as she undoes the last button.

“’Kay. Not saying anything.” He complies, smirking.

She tugs off his shirt and pushes him back on the sofa, straddling him as she runs her hands over his chest. Bending down, she kisses him long and deep, then trails soft wet kisses along his throat to his collarbone and down his sternum. She runs her tongue around his left nipple, then over it, sucking on it gently.

“Jesus, Charlie.” Miles gathers her hair in a fist, holding the nape of her neck as she moves onto his right nipple, then going still lower, across his stomach, right to his navel, her loving touches driving him crazy.

He lets go of her when she reaches for his belt, lifting his hips to help her yank down his pants and boots.

“You’re still dressed,” he notes, looking up to where she is standing over him beside the sofa.

“I guess I should do something about it.” She sheds her clothes, piece by piece, as they hold each other’s eyes.

“Touch yourself,” he asks quietly when she’s left with nothing on. She doesn’t look away, throwing her hair back before running her hands down her body, over her breasts, playing with her nipples for just a few moments. She slides lower, hesitating for a second, but as he gives her a small nod, she dips her fingers in her soft curls.

“You’re ready, aren’t you?”

“Mhm.” He takes her hand, sucking her fingers clean as she straddles him again. “So ready.”

She moans, curling her fingers around his shaft, feeling the firm heat before guiding him slowly in. He holds onto her hips, helping her, until she’s seated on him, her breathing fast and shallow. He pulls her down, flush against his body, and she kisses him, the aftertaste of her still in his mouth.

He brushes her hair from her face: “God, you’re incredible, Charlie.”

He flips them over and starts moving. She entwines her fingers in his hair as he kisses her, picking up his rhythm. She digs her heels into his thighs, revelling in the fire that spreads through her body until it consumes her. Miles follows her over the edge, burying his face in her hair.

They lie entangled, naked and sated, until their skin prickles in the chillness of the air. They separate only to get dressed, then snuggle back together.

“I have some things to do before the celebration.”

“Huh?”

“We’ve signed the trade agreement with Georgia last week.”

“That’s good news!”

“Yes. People need something good at last, a reason to have some fun. Bass will have a speech for the public, and then we’ll have a semi-formal party with the officers.”

“You said last week?”

“We wanted to wait for you.”

She is more than a little touched by that. “What if I didn’t come back?” She can’t resist teasing.

Miles is not amused. “Then we’d have an excuse for getting drunk.” He stands up, preparing to leave.

“Oh, I was supposed to tell you Bass had a dress or two made for you, I suppose you could wear one tonight.”

“Okay. I guess I can go see Danny in the meantime.”

“Danny will be there, too, you can see him then.”

Something in the way Miles says it is off. “Is he –?”

“He’s fine.” Miles hurries to calm her down.

“What are you not telling me?”

“Just, um,” Miles decides there is no good way of saying it: “He sort of joined the recruits.”

“What! How could you let that happen?!”

Miles plants his legs more firmly on the floor. “It was his idea.”

“And you listened to him?”

“It makes sense, with him becoming interested in that science stuff and hanging around the engineers, it is best to make his allegiance clear. Nah,” he waves his finger in front of her face before she protests anew, “the doctor approved it, said exercise would do him good, with some accommodations for his condition, and he’s been checking up on him regularly. Danny’s okay, you’ll see so for yourself.”

Charlie pouts, thinking about it.

“He better be.”

“He is.” Miles assures her.

“You could have stalled until I returned.”

“He doesn’t need your permission, Charlie. I know you are used to taking care of him, but you’ll have to let go a bit. Danny’s not a boy anymore.”

Charlie sighs. She hates to admit Miles is probably right.

“Okay?”

“I guess so.”

“Well, see you later, then. Get some more rest.”

***

She finds the dresses in the wardrobe and chooses the green one, a modest knee-length cut with a matching shawl, long enough she can wrap the ends around her lower arms. There’s a pair of a fine shoes, too, hard to come by these days, not to mention they fit when she tries them on. She lets her hair down, hiding the love-bites on her neck.

Charlie feels more than a tad uneasy, dressed like that, exposed, defenceless. The crowd unnerves her, despite the strong guard. She will likely never be at ease with large groups of people. Charlie feels like suffocating looking at the crowd, despite the distance. There is too much noise and too many things to pay attention to.

Fortunately, the public part is short and they move inside, where there are fewer people, though still too many for Charlie’s taste. But they are mostly militia and their partners. No matter how ironic the fact, Charlie feels better in this kind of company, where at least she knows most of the faces.

She spots Danny by the wall. He beams at her from afar and she sees Miles told her the truth, Danny actually looks well, more than that, stronger, healthier than the last time she saw him. They make small talk, the place and time not suitable for serious conversation.

She excuses herself in a while, making her way across the room to where Miles and Monroe are. It takes some time, since a few acquaintances greet her and she makes some more awkward small talk.

Miles is perching carelessly on the edge of a table, Monroe standing beside. People have already started leaving, so they are on their own, exchanging a few words from time to time.

The strain of the day catching up with her, she is beyond caring what anyone thinks, just puts her hand on Sebastian’s lower arm and leaves it there. After a moment, he flashes his most brilliant smile, the open, honest one so few people get, and puts his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. Miles doesn’t do smiles, but to her seeing his features soften equals one.

Looking around, Charlie detects the way women, and some men, look at them – Monroe mostly, not Miles, the sombre General causing fear more than anything else. It’s not the first time she sees it, but she still doesn’t like it at all. Her other hand moves to Monroe’s chest on its own accord, the simple, possessive gesture instinctive, before she catches herself and lets her hand fall.

Naturally, Monroe guesses what it’s about.

“Don’t worry, Charlie, Miles and I, we have each other to keep us from straying,” he reassures her, only loud enough for Miles and her to hear.

“That’s good.”

“No problem with that?” He tightens his hold on her hip.

“No, not at all.”

“Well, _someone_ has a problem,” Miles points to somewhere behind Charlie with a tilt of his head. She turns to see Rachel approaching, followed by a guard.

“You let my mother attend?”

“It was supposed to make us look more benevolent.” Monroe explains just before she reaches them, glaring.

“What is going on here?” her voice is cool, but the tone unmistakably reproachful.

“What, Rachel?” Bass smirks. “Are you gonna accuse me of harassing your daughter again? Because it clearly looks the other way around right now.”

Charlie looks pointedly at her, not moving an inch. “Hello, mum.”

Rachel doesn’t reply, looking from them to Miles.

“And you’ve been just standing by?” she demands.

Miles shrugs. “Believe me, Rachel, you don’t want to know.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Rachel abruptly stops, thinking. They can almost hear the wheels turning inside her head.

“Rachel,” Monroe warns just as she breathes in sharply, starting to say something, “There’s not much I’ll be able to do if you make a scene in public.”

“You –” Rachel hisses, her arm shooting up to strike, but Charlie catches her wrist. “I’ll walk you to your room, mum, if you’re not feeling well.”

“Yes, that would be best.” Miles plays along.

If Rachel thinks about struggling, she knows when to give up, so she complies as Charlie leads her out, the guard close on the other side.

Once they are inside Rachel’s room she spins on her heels to face Charlie.

“Tell me the truth, Charlie, Monroe can’t get away with just anything.” She takes hold of her arm, meaning to show sympathy, but at that Charlie’s shawl slips off, revealing the mark beneath.

“What’s this?” Rachel gasps. “They have forced you to –“

“No one’s forced me into anything.” Charlie pries her hand away.

“You can’t be serious!”

“I’m happy with them.”

“Them?” Finally putting two and two together, Rachel is actually at loss with words, which is a rare achievement. “That, that’s… Charlie, they are wrong to make you –. For god’s sake, Miles is your uncle!”

“Yes, I know.” Charlie is oddly calm, confident, while Rachel seems completely beside herself. She is searching for what to say.

“It’s not too late, Charlie, you can still get away, they trust you, you can manage to escape, leave this behind!” Rachel implores.

“And do what, mum?”

“Have a normal life; settle down with a nice boy.” Rachel appears genuinely concerned. She doesn’t get it. Charlie has given plenty of thought to it. But she’s not a naïve girl anymore.

“Settle down? Between redneck farmers and the militia, there are only so many nice boys these days, mum.” She scoffs. “A _normal_ life? Whatever kind of a normal life you used to imagine for me, it was gone the moment the lights went out.”

Charlie pauses. “It’s been a long day. Good night, mum.” She leaves Rachel gaping. She knows Rachel is not finished, but right now, something else is much more important.

***

To her surprise she finds Miles and Bass in the lounge, each occupying one end of the sofa.

“It’s over already?”

“Yeah, people were leaving anyway and Jeremy invited the remaining officers for a drink at his place,” Monroe answers.

Charlie looks at them: “I want this.”

They both narrow their eyes, looking at her puzzled.

Charlie smiles. It’s been awhile she has realized how she felt, her absence and the confrontation with Rachel only strengthening her resolve.

“You two. Us. I want this.” She tries to clarify. “If _you_ don’t want me,” she gulps, “just don’t make it about age or other’s people opinion.”

They both reach for her at the same time, pulling her on the sofa between them.

“Charlie.” Miles kisses her softly on the lips while Bass just leans his face against hers. “It may be all sorts of wrong,” Miles sighs, “but I’m not good enough not to want you. Not good enough to let you go when you don’t want to be let go of. ”

“Me neither.” Bass whispers into her ear, taking her in her arms. “Of course we want you. _I_ want you. And Miles,” he adds.

“Good.” She turns her head to meet his lips.

“Bedroom,” Miles suggests somewhat later, when their clothes are already ruffled and they are all heady with want.

They make love then, slow and thorough, hands roaming everywhere, their heartbeats racing. They climb ever higher, savouring each sensation, finally the pleasure undoing them closely to one another.

Afterwards, Miles traces the marks on her neck down across her shoulder, fresh ones mingled with the older.

“Mine,” he murmurs.

“Ours,” Sebastian corrects him, his fingers following Miles’.

“Yours,” Charlie agrees. 

Bass laces his fingers through Charlie’s, Miles somehow managing to entwine his through both of theirs. Their bodies mould together, fitting perfectly, three pieces of a puzzle falling into place.

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta’d, so quibble away if you see anything. Comments are always welcome.


End file.
